


Guns, Green Eyes, and Other Dangerous Things

by dreamboathaz



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: American setting, Batman AU, Batman characters and world, Bottom Louis, Gotham AU, Harry is a cop, Heroes and Villains, M/M, Mayhem, Mistaken identities, Murder, Mystery, Top Harry, harry is from new york, harry looks like marcel most of the time, vigilantes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-17 11:59:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17559983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamboathaz/pseuds/dreamboathaz
Summary: The shadow moved and suddenly he was cast in the moonlight from the window. And Louis realized who he was.The Batman.-Louis Tomlinson spent his days attending college and his night dressed in a leather catsuit, stealing from the rich and giving to the... well, to the rich for payment, along with his adopted mother, Selina Kyle, better known as the Catwoman.Harry Styles, a fresh face in Gotham and the city police force, is running from a dark past. Bumbling and humble, Harry runs into the mysterious cat boy and finds himself falling headfirst into a mystery that could make or break his career and change his life.





	1. Chapter 1

PART ONE

THE NAKED CITY

 

There was no one in the penthouse when Louis Tomlinson entered, dressed in black leather with yellow lensed goggles obscuring his eyes from view. The cowl he was wearing, complete with little-pointed ears at the top, hugged his face snuggly just like the rest of the leather outfit. Using deft flips, he scaled the alarms and slid into the extravagant yet minimalist bedroom. With a pop to his hip, he walked over to the closet and yanked it open, revealing a large room, organized with an excessive amount of clothes and shoes. Ignoring all of it, he went straight to the back left corner and pulled open what looked to be a drawer. It was a false door, however, and it opened to reveal a shiny black safe.

 

Humming a pop song under his breath, Louis leaned in close, pushing his cowl away from his ear and plucking his goggles off his eyes, setting them on his forehead. Using the tips of his claws, he rolled the tumbler around, listening to the clicks and ticks it made as it moved.

 

70…

 

He rolled it around some more.

 

15… 

 

Louis’s lips spread into a wide smile with the last number.

 

27…

 

The safe clicked open and revealed the motherlode. Inside of the safe was paperwork. Louis didn’t care about that and pushed them aside with a gloved hand. He grabbed the velvet jewellery containers and opened them gently, not even letting them make a clicking noise. He pulled the line of pearls out and pulled them over his head, letting them rest on his clavicle. Then he began to pluck the rest of jewels out of their resting places and began to tie them into little velvet baggies that he was pulling from his utility belt. When everything was secure, he placed all the velvet cases back in the safe, shuffled the papers and documents methodically into place and closed the safe, locking it back up. He then closed the false door and made his way out of the apartment, fingering the pearls hanging around his neck with a chuckle.

 

Flipping out of the window, he made sure the penthouse was locked up nice and tight before he shot off the side of the wall, scaling up to the roof. He began to run into the night, jumping from building to building back to his apartment.

 

His apartment was nothing special. It was located in an average area, near Puckett Park and just off Hebert Drive. It was who owned the apartment that made all the difference in the world.

 

Slipping open the window to his apartment, Louis slid inside, his feet not making a noise on the carpeted living room. The only light was the white light from the television and laying on the couch was his… roommate? She was more than that though. Not his mother, but something akin to it. She was lying on her side, the television remote laying in her lax hand.

 

Closing the window behind him, Louis snuck the remote out of Selina Kyle’s hand and turned the television off before tugging a blanket off the rocking chair and laying it on her. He wandered into his room, and tugged the pearls off his neck, sticking them in another velvet baggy. He stashed the baggies in his underwear drawer and began the task of changing out of his nightly outfit and into some joggers and a t-shirt before he crawled into bed.

 

 

Simone Scott Institute of Higher Education was a university that sat on the east side of Wayne Botanical Garden, near Monolith Square. It was very neo-gothic in style, all pointed arches, steep-closed roofs and fancy carvings, like lace and latticework, were applied. Despite the developments of steel frames and elevators, the building was a tall, buttressed towering thing, with interior columns of load-bearing masonry and tall, narrow windows.

 

It was drizzling, the sky a smoky grey when Louis left from his classes the next day. He was taking several education classes and a drama and theatre course. It kept him busy in the days to the point he had almost no social life. Especially considering his late night activities.

 

Walking to the LRT, he took the tram home, pretending to be a normal student. He was antsy though. He had a meeting tonight to sell his haul from the night before.

 

Selina was cooking when he got home. Just some eggs, it seemed by the smell in the air. Shutting the apartment door and locking the notch behind him, Louis dropped his school bag on the floor and kicked off his shoes. Walking into there kitchen, Louis took inventory of what Selina was making. Eggs with melted cheese on top and toasted bagels with mayonnaise slathered on it. He grinned.

 

“Smells good, Selina!” He chirped, padding into the kitchen with socked feet.

 

Selina was a tall woman, thin yet curvy, with a pixie cut, hair jet black. Her eyes were blue sapphires that sparkled against her tanned skin. Looking over her shoulder, Selina smiled widely, showing off white teeth. “Why, thank you, Lou. Something simple for tonight. Big night, after all.” She winked and used a spatula to scoop the eggs off the pan and lay them on the bottom half of the bagel. Smacking the top of the bagels on top of the eggs, she presented the plate to Louis, who took it gratefully. Selina them poured them each a glass of milk, sliding his across the table to him before she sat down across from him.

 

Louis liked to think he could barely remember a time without Selina but that wasn’t true. After a car accident killed his mother, Louis and run away from Child Services, deciding to live on the street was better than any foster home the government could place him in. And it was. The one foster home they had managed to get him into had been a nightmare; a living hell. And then Selina found him.

 

Selina was quiet, rather mysterious but had a motherly way about her that was… intense yet hard to distinguish. If anyone asked, she was definitely not a mother. Yes, she had picked up this lone kid from the side of the road, took him in and taught him everything she knew.

 

Louis prattled on about an oral debate he had been assigned in one of his education courses and how the next class in his drama course was all about playwriting. He was stumped on what he would write about but he was sure something would come to him, probably last minute, knowing him.

 

Selina hummed and awed at the right moments around mouthfuls of bagel, her lips twitching into a wry smile at humorous complaints and retellings of the day. Louis offered to clean up the kitchen and while Selina went to the bathroom, Louis washed the dishes, stacking them in the rack for them to drip dry and eventually be put away. When Selina emerged from the bathroom, she was wearing her black leather leotard, belt at her slim waist with a whip curled at the hip. She had her cat cowl on, topped with her own goggles and she was wearing no makeup, yet looked absolutely beautiful to Louis.

 

“Come on Kitty, time to get dressed.” She purred, stretching her arms high above her head. Louis nodded and scrambled to his room, dressing in his near identical to her’s costume. Loading a small backpack up with the velvet baggies, Louis tugged it over his shoulders and the two cats headed out into the night.

 

 

 

Prowling along the top rail of the Iceberg Lounge, Louis could see everything. It was a two-story, 12,800 square foot restaurant and lounge which included a large pool filled with seals and penguins in the dining area. There was an iceberg like sculpture in the pool, a ship-themed dance floor and polar decor. Despite the name, the Iceberg Lounge was pleasantly warm, not enough to make Louis uncomfortable in his leathers, but nice enough that he wasn’t chilled.

 

He knew that the Penguin had his own private dining area upstairs near the bar where he could oversee the entire operation below. Jumping like a large cat to another railing, Louis followed Selina over to the second-floor overhang, where a squat man sat puffing a cigar. The Penguin himself, dressed in a long coat tailed suit with a black umbrella propped next to him.

 

With a flip, Selina twirled off the railing and landed just in front of the table of the crime lord, Louis following her just as smoothly. The Penguin had tensed and his bodyguards had raised their guns, AR-15s by the look of them. Not that Louis was a gun guy in any way, shape or form but he had been around them enough he was able to pick up a few things. The Penguin waved his guards down, puffing away at his cigar.

 

“Ahhh, Catwoman, how nice of you to join us. And with your lovely protege!” He took the cigar out from between his lips and blew out a ring of smoke with an unnerving grin. “Boys, give the cats some room, eh?” He chuckled, high and nasally. The guards, having dropped their weapons down to their sides, took several steps back, exchanging glances with each other. One of them was very obviously checking out Selina in her Catwoman garb and it made Louis’s blood boil. In one swoop he would have been able to rip the man’s eyes out but he knew better than to do such things.

 

Instead, he pulled the tiny backpack off his back and unzipped it. Pulling the tiny baggies out with the nails of his costume, he plucked them from their home in the bag and laid them out on the table in front of Penguin. Penguin set his cigar back between his lips before he grabbed one of the bags, pulling it open and letting the item fall into his fat palm. It was an antique black sapphire ring, circled with white gold. He chuckled around the cigar, holding the ring up in the light for his bodyguards to see.

 

“See boys, some people just don’t disappoint.” His eyes glinted, “This lad here is a good one, Catwoman, eh?” He grinned widely, revealing his crooked teeth.

 

Selina inclined her head in agreement, “The price, Cobblepot?” She huffed, impatiently.

 

He nodded, puffing his cigar and waved his hand again. Another burly man, his head shaved, approached, holding a canvas workout bag. He dropped it on the floor in front of the two cats. Louis bent down and unzipped it, opening the top flap to reveal stacks of cash inside. He grinned widely, knowing this would get invested into the apartment, school and hopefully some fun stuff like video games.

 

“You better be getting a good education, boy.” Penguin sneered at him, his eyes seeing right through his suit to Louis beneath. Or, at least, that’s what it felt like. Louis hated that everyone was able to tell his age, despite the cowl and goggles.

 

“The best, seeing as you’re now holding Mrs Evestrom’s crown jewels,” Louis snipped, crossing his arms.

 

The Penguin eyed him some more before letting out a belly aching laugh, “He’s a good kid, Catwoman.”He waved a sausage sized finger at her, making Selina smile and roll her eyes. 

“If that’s it, Cobblepot, then we’ll be off,” Selina told him.

 

“Don’t you want to stay for a drink?” Penguin asked, waving his hand towards the bar. Selina shook her head and he added, “It’s on the house.”

 

Selina smirked, “That’s very kind of you but we have some more running around to do tonight.” She took the bag of money from Louis, who placed his now empty backpack on his shoulders again. Then the two of them slunk out of the Iceberg Lounge, stealing away through a window and running along rooftops back to their apartment.

 

After stowing away the money at their apartment, the two set off again, scaling buildings until they made it to an old industrial sector, set up as a training ground for their purposes. Selina handed Louis her whip, “Alright, let’s try that X pattern again.”

 

And Louis nodded, settled in for a long night of training with her bullwhip. He knew, once he had completed his training, he would be getting his own but for now, he was too inexperienced to wield one in combat. _For now._

 

 

 

“Come on now Rookie, no slacking.” Officer Garret Wilson snapped.

 

Harry nodded, carrying a bundle of files in his arms, balancing two coffee cops in his hands and sliding along the rain wet tiled floor. Depositing the coffee off at two different desks, he began to hurry around, reading the file names and dropping them off at the correct officer’s desk. He pushed his glasses up his nose using his pinky finger when his hand was free and went back for more coffee when the papers were all correctly deposited.

 

Smoothing his hair into place on his head, he now had four coffees in his hands this time. Hurrying back to the bullpen of the police station, he went to Burton, Aleba, Bertrand and Hudson’s desks, dropping off their coffees. Burton thanked him with a kind smile but Bertrand called him back over.

 

Harry rushed back to Bertrand’s desk, “Y-Yes?” He asked shakily, already mentally preparing himself for what was to come. It wasn’t a new thing.

 

“How many creams did you put in this, Rookie?” Bertrand sneered, leering at him over his reading glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

 

“T-Two, sir.” Harry stuttered nervously, aware Burton and several others were watching the exchange. He pushed at his glasses, anxiously. 

 

“That’s bullshit, Rookie. Get me one with one cream, two sugars, got it? Or are you too dumb?” He gave an ugly laugh.

 

Face flushed in shame and embarrassment, Harry shook his head, snatched the coffee off Bertrand’s desk and hurried off to the coffee machine again. Dumping the contents down the drain, he proceeded the task of making the officer a new drink, complete to his specifications of one cream, two sugars. When that was done, Harry gave him his new coffee and rushed off, back to his little desk in the corner stacked to the brim with neat piles of paper, before Bertrand could say anything else.

 

And that was the usual shift for Officer Harry Styles.

 

It was raining when Harry finally got off work, late into the night. He was dead tired, having pulled a twelve-hour shift. He had three more days to go before he had his four days off, which he was looking forward to. He caught the LRT back to his apartment, his neatly groomed hair starting to curl from the rain. He huffed and threw his wet clothes in the dryer before he climbed into the shower. Washing his curls, Harry rinsed off and climbed out, rubbing himself down with a towel that had seen better days. Tying it around his waist he walked out to his living room where his police radio was set up, hissing static. Sighing, he crouched and fiddled with the knobs until it crackled to life.

 

“Robbery,” it crackled, "Mrs Helen Evestrom in Gotham Heights,” it hissed. “Missing from her safe-,” it went on to list about a dozen valuables, worth more than Harry had ever owned in his entire life. He sighed. Another robbery in Gotham Heights. That was the seventh one in the last month and affluent and wealthy were getting restless. The Gotham City Police Department (GCPD) had been working their assess off but to no avail. There was nothing ever left out of place and nothing found in pawn shops. With no leads and nothing to go on, the case was at a standstill.

 

Wandering back into his room, Harry dressed in a pair of old sweats and a -relatively new- tank top. He grabbed a water from the fridge and plugged his cellphone in, turning on the alarm before he dropped onto the couch. He turned the television onto something he didn’t care about until he fell asleep.

 

 

 

“Second floor. Apartment six, in the back,” The officer told Detectives Galloway and Kelso when they arrived the scene. Harry was standing nervously with several other officers, all eager to be picked to help investigate with the vice detectives. Harry had slicked his hair down until it was almost a bowl on his head, and he was wearing obscenely large square glasses on his nose, making his eyes look much bigger than they actually were. It was his usual outfit to go along with the blue uniform he was required to wear.

 

Detective Galloway, a shorter, plump man, inspected the keen officers over his cigar before he pointed into the crowd. “You, the nerdy fucker.” Harry flushed and pointed at himself in question. Galloway nodded, “You look like the only one who won’t start humping my leg in excitement once we get in there.” He crooked a finger, “Come on then. Don’t have all day waiting.” Harry nodded and ducked his head, weaving around his fellow officers who were glowering at him.

 

He followed the Detectives up the stairs to the open door. Another detective met them there, a homicide detective, Harry guessed. Handsome and young named Bekowsky, he said, getting right into the action, “Twenty-six-year-old female. Fashion model. Found in the tub by the cleaning lady, a Mrs Reynoldson. She called it in.”

 

Galloway nodded, puffing at his cigar before leading Harry and Kelso into the crime scene. It was another apartment in Gotham Heights, another robbery. But this one was sloppy, less organized and methodical. And there was a dead victim. Harry frowned deeply and watched the detectives bicker. Galloway seemed to think it was an accidental drowning while Kelso wasn’t so sure. They left the bathroom and walked into her bedroom, still snarling at each other.

 

Harry slid into the bathroom, nearly doubling over when he saw the body. The woman was naked and bruised around the throat and along her arms. There was a puckered puncture mark on her arm. Mal, the coroner, looked up at him, surprised at the sight of him in the doorway. “Officer Styles?”

 

Harry nodded, “Hey Mal. What are your thoughts? Murder?” He asked, softly, so his voice wouldn’t carry through the apartment.

 

Mal nodded. “If she had drowned the water would have churned in her lungs and would result in foam at the mouth and nose. Notice the absence of it?” Harry nodded. “I think someone held her down, explaining the bruising, and someone else injected her with a syringe of morphine.”

 

“And put her in the bathtub and covered the floor with pills to make it look like an overdose,” Harry concluded thoughtfully.

 

Mal nodded, “Exactly.”

 

Galloway came bustling back out of the bedroom, eyeing Harry up, “Outta here, Rookie.” He ordered, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder and Harry ducked his head, scampering out to the living room. He noted a men’s smoking jacket laying on the couch but didn’t think much of it as he made his way around to a cabinet. 

 

Waiting for Galloway and Kelso to catch up, Harry lingered in the living room, looking at the framed photos she had decorated a curio cabinet. They were photos of her modelling, clothing far more expensive then what you would see in the Sears catalogue. She was blonde and beautiful, her eyes sparkling in every photo. Hesitantly, Harry, snapping on latex gloves from his pocket, picked up the centre photo. She was standing in front of a storefront. On a whim, he pulled open the back of the frame to reveal the backside of the photo.

 

D’Assine on 137th

I’m working Tuesday 11-4

Keep me company?

Ask for Ms Randall

XXX Julia

 

Harry hmphed under his breath, sliding the frame closed and setting the photo back up. Harry waited for the detective to begin interviewing the witness before he backed out of the apartment, pulling out his phone and unlocking it. He looked up D’Assine and smiled to himself. A modelling agency. Of course. Tucking his phone away, Harry bit his lip to keep himself from grinning.

 

 

 

“What do you mean there’s been a murder?” Louis hissed as he dropped his school bag off at the front door. Selina was holding the Gotham newspaper, pacing back and forth in the apartment.

 

“Come, sit down, Louis.” She waved him in. Louis slunk inside and dropped into the couch, grabbing a pillow and hugging it close to his stomach. “The model, Julia Randall, in Gotham Heights was found murdered. _Robbed_ and murdered.” Louis groaned and brought the pillow up to bury his face in it. “Louis, how careful have you been?” She hissed, crouching down in front of him, “Tell me so I can protect you!”

 

“I’ve done everything you’ve told me! Everything you’ve taught me!” He promised.

 

Selina nodded, her face tight. “I don’t want you going out for a while.”

 

Louis dropped the pillow from his face. “No! Selina! I promise I won’t do any more jobs!”

 

Selina took his hands in her and held them close to her face. “Louis, this is too dangerous now. I don’t want you doing anything that could lead back to you.”

 

“What about training?” Louis asked, eyes wide. “It’s out of the way! It’s the safest thing we do!”

 

Selina sighed and seemed reluctant to agree but eventually, she nodded, “Okay, fine. We’ll still train but no more jobs. Got it?” Louis nodded, the weight on his shoulders feeling lighter.

 

They went out that night, the fear of being caught looming over them more than ever before.

 

They spent several hours training with the bullwhip under the moonlight in the abandoned yard. Louis was getting much better if he was to say so himself. Selina had approached him with a knife and he had been able to use the whip to snatch it out of her hand with one fluid snap, sending it flying off to the right of them. He had also been able to snap the whip and wrap it around Selina’s knee, dragging her to the ground, which he had been unsuccessful at the previous few nights.

 

Eventually, the two cats left and returned to their apartment. Louis entered the window first, sliding in and out of the chilly wind. He went to his room and began to change into his joggers and sweater, fluffing his hair when he heard something. He paused, sweater halfway on and listened. It was Selina’s voice and another. A man. Someone with a deep growly voice.

 

Louis tugged his sweater on and left his room, walking out into the living room, freezing at the sight. Selina, still in costume was talking to a giant looming shadow. A shadow with two pointed ears (or horns) at the top of its head and broad shoulders, draped in an inky coloured cape.

 

“Selina?” He hissed and the shadow’s white eyes flicked to him.

 

The shadow drew himself to his full height and growled, “Didn’t realize you had a visitor, Selina.” There was a hint of jealousy mixed in with the anger in his voice

 

“I don’t.” Selina snapped. “Louis lives here. With me.” She crossed her arms, “Though it’s none of your business. What are you doing here anyway?”

 

The shadow moved and suddenly he was cast in the moonlight from the window. And Louis realized who he was.

 

The Batman.

 

A shiver ran through Louis and he took a risky step forward, gazing at the myth before him. “You’re friends with Batman?” He asked Selina, eyes wide.

 

She snorted, “That’s one way to put it. He wants to see if I killed Julia Randall.”

 

Louis narrowed his eyes, “Selina had nothing to do with that!”

 

Selina waved a hand at him, eyes softening, “It’s okay, kiddo. I’ve got this. Head to bed, okay?” Louis frowned, shifting from foot to foot. His eyes flicked from Selina to the Batman before he eventually nodded, knowing they wouldn’t speak anymore with him present. Rushing back to his room, Louis made a point of slamming the door before pressing his ear against it.

 

He heard the Batman growl at Selina, “A kid? What are you doing with a kid, Selina?”

 

She huffed, “Oh like you’re the only person around allowed to adopt now?” _Batman adopts??_ Louis awed.

 

Her statement was followed with silence before a long sigh, “Selina.”

 

“We’re doing just fine!” Selina hissed, “He goes to the Scott Institute, he’s a bright kid. We get by just _fine_.”

 

“Selina, let me help you. _Help him_. I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.” Batman growled. “You know I would do anything-,” He broke off and Louis wondered what Selina’s reaction was to his declaration.

 

“You don’t have to do anything, Bruce.” Selina sighed. _Bruce?_ Louis's heart thrummed in his chest. Selina knew who Batman was? And his name was Bruce? Louis bit his lip. _Bruce who?_ Louis wondered, taking a sharp breath. “I need to protect him, Bruce. I want the best for him. I’m not his mother but…” She huffed.

 

“I understand, Selina.” Batman, or Bruce, commiserated. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me. I just wish you had told me. I would have been there for you. I will still.” He promised.

 

“Maybe.”

 

There was a long silence and Louis, crouched at his door, stood up and jumped into bed, curling up under the covers. Several minutes went by and Selina poked her head into the door. She looked for only a second before leaving, the door shutting behind her. Louis let out a sigh and laid in the darkness of his room, thinking. And, eventually, sleep overcame him.

 

 

 

The next day, after leaving school, the only thing Louis wanted to do was crash into bed. As he walked off of campus, a black car approached him. A nice one, he could tell, very old style. A classic. It pulled up beside him on the street, stopping just a few feet in front of him. And the back door opened. Other students from the institute had stopped and been staring. Louis walked closer and peered from a safe distance into the car.

 

It was Bruce Wayne.

 

Louis thought his heart would burst from his chest because _of course._ Bruce Wayne. The only man who was rich enough to be the Batman. Bruce smiled at him, looking contrastingly different from the night before. “Hey there Louis. I’m Bruce Wayne,” He said as if Louis had no idea who he was, “I would like to have dinner with you if you don’t mind?” He asked, his voice much lighter than before. Kinder and softer.

 

Louis glanced over his shoulder at the whispering students and flushed, nodding and throwing himself into the car, slamming the door behind him. It was weird. Louis had never been close to anyone who was rich when he was just Louis. When he was his alter ego though, he was wherever he wanted to be. He was with the poor, the rich. He was everywhere. There were no boundaries for him when he was the Stray. But, as Louis, sitting in the expensive car, with an older man driving him and Bruce Wayne to some restaurant… It was the last thing Louis ever expected to happen to him.

 

“So Louis, I hear you’re the top of your classes.” Smiling, Bruce asked, “Are you enjoying them?”

 

Squirming in his seat, Louis nodded, “My teachers are awesome. Really liking the courses.” Bruce’s eyes crinkled when he smiled and he looked so pleasant, sitting there. Louis couldn’t even tell he was that big of a guy, dressed in the black Armani suit. Looking at him, Louis couldn’t even see Batman’s square chin in Bruce. They looked like completely different people. While there was something haunting, foreboding in Batman, there was something else, jovial and flamboyant in Bruce Wayne. It was such a stark contrast it made Louis’s head spin.

 

“Um, Mr Wayne?”

 

“Please, call me Bruce.”

 

“Alright. Um, Bruce. Why is this happening?”

 

Bruce chuckled, “I know you were listening to us last night. You know who I am.” Something dangerous glinted in his eye and Louis jumped, his hands tightening into fists on his lap.

 

“I won’t say anything. I’m good with secrets.”

 

Bruce smiled, “I’m sure you are, Louis. I’m not concerned about that. I’m concerned about you.” He paused and stoked at his chin thoughtfully. “I want to sponsor you.”

 

Louis blinked, “What?”

 

Bruce smiled as they pulled up to a red light. “I have some connections to Brentwood Academy.” Brentwood was an affluent private high school, something Louis would only ever think about in his dreams when he had been a younger boy. “And I know you’re studying to become a drama teacher. How would you like an internship at the academy? I’m personal friends with Dean McKinnon and I know the current drama teacher, Samuelson, would love a hand.”

 

Louis gapped at him, “Are- Are you serious!?” He exclaimed, his mouth going dry.

 

Bruce chuckled, “Very. I would be happy to get you that internship, Louis.” He winked.

 

Louis’s mind was racing. That would be an amazing experience for him. A once in a lifetime kind of thing. He might never have this chance again. Another thought nagged at it. _Why_? Why would Bruce Wayne, the Batman, want to do this for him? But he couldn’t stop the thrumming in his chest and he grinned widely, “That would be so amazing Mr Wayne. Er, Bruce.”

 

Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder, using his other hand to pull out his cellphone, “Then it’s done.”

 

Bruce Wayne was kind of amazing, Louis realized. Everything he seemed to know about him from the magazines seemed to be wrong. He was down to earth, kind and patient. He was an intellectual but also enjoyed sports and knew quite a bit about football, much to Louis’s delight. He seemed up to date in everything, from politics to technology and was easy to talk to. After dinner, his butler drove Louis home and Louis exchanged numbers with Bruce.

 

 _I have Bruce Wayne’s number. No big deal…_ Louis couldn’t stop smiling.

 

He rushed up the stairs to his apartment, fumbling with his keys to get the door open. He immediately dropped his bag, locking the door behind him before he entered the kitchen. Selina was sitting at the table, her fingers crossed, looking stern. 

 

“Selina! You’ll never believe-,”

 

“I know.”

 

Louis blinked. “What?”

 

“You went out for dinner with Bruce. What did he want from you?” She stood up and approached him. “What did he offer you, Louis?”

 

“I- He told me he’d get me an internship at Brentwood-, But Selina-,”

 

“Did say yes!?” Selina snapped, looking panicked.

 

“What?”

Selina ran a hand through her short hair, “Did you say yes, Louis?”

 

“Yes!”

 

She groaned and dropped back into a chair. “Why? Why would you do this?”

 

Louis, very gently, crouched in front of her, “Selina, this might be my chance. To be more than _just Louis_. I’m not in his pocket and if he tries anything, you know I’ll handle it. Selina, I promise, I won’t let this affect you.” He paused and considered his next words. “Why don’t you like him?”

 

“I…” She closed her eyes and gripped his hands in hers. “I can’t tell you. But there’s more to Bruce than what you see.”

 

“I know. I’m not stupid.”

 

Selina smirked, “I know, love.” She squeezed his hands, “Just, tell me? Tell me everything?” Louis nodded. “And, you’ve never been _just_ Louis. Not to me.”

 

Louis smiled, his eyes watering at the corners. “I know.”

 

 

 

Harry cursed.

 

It was late out.

 

He had accidentally spilt coffee on some of Bertrand’s paperwork and had to do all fifty some sheets of work, much to the glee of the fellow officer. it was late and he was finally out of uniform, dressed in a brown sweater vest underneath a grey pea coat. He was wearing slacks with a crease down the front of each leg and scruffy dress shoes. It was his usual get up on work days. His hair, hair sprayed within an inch of its life to lay flat around his head, didn’t even move in the wind from his brisk pace. Pushing his glasses up with a frozen index finger, Harry hurried and moved around the corner, cursing again when he realized he had turned too soon and was at a construction site. The LRT was one more up.

 

The curse of living in a new city.

 

Sighing, he turned and began to walk further up the street when he heard someone laugh and call out to him. He paused and glanced over his shoulder. Three burly shapes were moving out of the street from the construction site towards him. _Shit._ Harry turned and picked up his pace but so did the men behind him.

 

And then, as Harry turned the corner, there were another three men waiting for him. Gritting his teeth, Harry regretted leaving his firearm in his locker at the station.

 

“Hey there, look at this. Little businessman?” One of the men chuckled. “Bet his wallet is as thick as his hair gel, eh?” The other men laughed. Harry sighed and pulled his wallet out, flipping open the fold to see what he had. Nothing. There were no bills and he winced.

 

“I…Look, I don’t have anything.” He stuttered, showing the men the empty wallet.

 

One of the men tsked. “That just won’t do, will it boys?” Another man cracked his knuckles ominously. Harry sighed and prepared for the worst night of his life.

 

After all, he was Harry Styles, the bumbling police officer, here in Gotham City.

 

 

 

He moved through the moonbeam, the light making his leather costume glint. Louis had waited for Selina to go to bed before he snuck out, under the guise of ‘leg day’. Or leg night. However, you wanted to look at it. He was trying to jump higher, further, better. He had made his way to the south of the city, further than what he usually did. It was musty smelling, no rain in the air for once.

 

Prowling the rooftops, Louis spotted something out of the corner of his eye, causing him to move to the edge of the building. He nearly tripped over a length of rope and caught himself on the short wall at the top. Hissing, he crouched down and looked. Some poor chap was getting mugged it seemed. Louis narrowed his eyes. Six men against one? Not very fair.

 

“I don’t have anything!” The man had stuttered and Louis shook his head. The man should have just given them the wallet and ran. Growing up on the streets, Louis knew a thing or two about getting out of shitty situations.

 

Then one of the burly threw a punch and the poor sap getting mugged dodged it, grabbing the arm and twisting it before shoving his knee into the burly man’s stomach, causing him to double over. Louis blinked, impressed and nodded to himself.

 

The other men seemed to only get angrier though and suddenly they were all throwing punches and it began a mess. Louis could see that the sucker getting mugged, wearing glasses, was handling himself pretty well, but he got a kick to his thigh which sent him down to his knees. And then one of the men brought out a knife. Louis reacted instinctually. He grabbed the rope from his feet and after tossing it between his hands he threw it down and smacked the knife out of the man’s hand. The blade went skittering across the pavement until it was out of sight.

 

All the men from below looked up.

 

“You boys look awfully small from up here.” Louis purred. “Picking on a poor man with glasses. Tsk, tsk boys.” He popped his hip to the side as he leaned over the edge of the building.

 

“Ugh, another costumed freak! I hate this city. Get your freakishness out of here!” One of the men snapped. Reacting in anger, Louis whipped the rope out and hit him across the face, causing him to stumble back with a yelp.

 

“Words hurt,” Louis huffed, “But I can hurt you much worse.” And then he jumped down, landing on the shoulders of a man and throwing him into the brick wall of the building using just his thighs. Jumping away from the man who went face first into the wall, he landed elegantly on his toes, just feet from the innocent man. The men must have decided he wasn’t scary enough and they started in on Louis. Louis reacted quicker though, throwing himself under one man’s arm before kicking him in the back of the knee. Sending him to the ground, Louis rammed his elbow into the back of his neck and the man fell forward to the pavement, limp.

 

“I would suggest you leave while you’re still able,” Louis told the rest of the men. One of the men threw a punch and Louis caught it in his hand. The man stunned, didn’t move and Louis shoved the fist away before he punched the man right in the nose, blood spurting from the wound.

 

Another man pulled out a multitool from his belt and flipped it out to a small knife. Louis didn’t notice at first but the man managed a cut to his side. Hissing, Louis grabbed the man’s fingers and forced them back, breaking them. The man screamed and fell to his knees. The men who were able too immediately took off, cursing and swearing to get back at Louis for what he had done.

 

The man in glasses was gazing up at him in awe. Louis smiled softly and offered him his hand. He was cute, in a nerdy way, Louis thought. He rather liked it. The man took his offered hand and Louis tugged him up to his feet.

 

“I-I… Thank you.” He pocketed his wallet, his face flushed.

 

Louis smiled, “No problem, fair citizen,” he teased. His side was aching but he knew better than to say anything. 

 

The man laughed. “No, it’s uh, Harry. Just Harry.” He scratched the back of his head, sheepishly.

 

_Just Harry. Just Louis._

 

Louis’s smile widened, “Alright, Harry. I’m Stray.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

PART TWO

A MORBID TASTE FOR BONES

 

Louis was walking with his arms on either side of him, his side stinging as he walked through the pools of moonlight with Harry at his side. Neither of them needed to say anything but Louis had told Harry he would walk the taller man home, just in case, dutifully ignoring his injury. Harry had flushed and agreed and remained silent the entire way back to his apartment. Louis longed to run along the rooftops but knew the poor man would stand no chance to follow him.

 

“Do you… uh… What something to drink?” Harry asked softly when they made it to the apartment. Louis was about to say no when his side twinged and he reminded himself he was probably bleeding. He, instead, nodded and Harry gave him a crooked grin, leading him into the building to the sixth floor where his apartment was. Harry gave him a brief tour, pointing out his room, the bathroom and the living room before he walked into the kitchen to pour Louis a glass of apple juice.

 

Louis followed, dropping into the first chair at the unused dining table. He couldn’t stop the audible groan as he sat, his side protesting the action. Harry flicked on the light above them and gasped, “You’re hurt!” He placed Louis’s glass of juice on the table before dropping to his knee at Louis’s side. With gentle fingers, he pried the leather away from the cut and Louis growled at him.

 

Harry gazed up at him, apologetically. “Let me patch you up. You’re going to need stitches.” Louis nodded dumbly, knowing he had no other choice. He couldn’t go to a hospital and he couldn’t exactly go back home and tell Selina what he had done. She would be pissed.

 

Harry rushed to the bathroom and came back with a first aid kit, which he opened on the table. “You’re going to need to take your shirt off so I can clean the wound,” Harry whispered, blushing furiously. Louis nodded and pulled the hook on his zipper down, revealing his chest and toned stomach. Carefully, he began to peel the leather away so only his waist down was covered in the costume. Harry gulped and began the task of cleaning the wound, trying his best to stay professional.

 

The entire process had Louis gritting his teeth, especially when Harry began to sew the wound up. Eventually, he finished and it oddly felt better, like there was less pressure behind it. How Louis didn’t understand.

 

“You can sleep here if you need?” Harry whispered, shifting anxiously on his feet. “I mean, it’s not safe for you to be running around with that wound.”

 

Louis considered it for a moment and knew immediately he should say no.

 

“Yeah that’s a good idea,” he said instead.

 

Harry beamed.

 

Kindly enough, Harry had set Louis up in his bedroom. It was sparse but the sheets were clean and it was organized. There was nothing personal it seemed, other than a photo of him with an older woman and another woman around Harry’s age, maybe older. His mother and sister? Louis inspected the picture carefully while Harry showered and, judging by the matching dimples, he would say yes. Carefully, Louis flipped over the frame and opened the back of it. The back of the photo read: Gemma, me and Mum, New York.

 

When the shower turned off, Louis closed up the frame and placed the picture back down on the dresser before he crawled into bed, being careful of his wound. Harry had lent him a pair of joggers which were so long Louis had to roll the legs up several times. He had, reluctantly removed his cowl and goggles, leaving himself vulnerable.

 

Harry must have forgotten about him because he wandered into the bedroom only wearing a towel around his waist and Louis forgot how to breathe. He was ripped. His arms were huge and his chest led down into a narrow waist. He was tanned and muscular and absolutely stunning. And his hair! It was dark and wet and curling around his face. A face that wasn’t wearing glasses. Louis narrowed his eyes for Harry looked like a very different person.

 

They made eye contact and Harry froze, looking very vulnerable and very much like the man Louis had met on the street.

 

And then…

 

Louis wasn’t sure what happened. One moment he and Harry were looking at each other in complete silence, the moonlight streaming in through the window and the next, Harry was in the bed with him.

 

Harry leant down, his body holding Louis in place and latched his mouth onto the side of Louis’s neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin to leave a mark. Louis arched up beneath him, the pleasure overwhelming the pain in his side. Louis threw his arms around Harry’s shoulders and the older man didn’t stop until Louis’s neck was a mosaic of hickeys and faint teeth marks.

 

Then he moved south. He sucked on Louis’s nipples until they were swollen and raw, dipped his tongue into Louis’s belly button. He tucked his thumbs into the waistband of the joggers and tugged them down. Louis was already half hard and achy. Finally, he swallowed Louis’s cock whole, the head hitting the back of his throat.

 

Slowly, Harry bobbed his head up and down, not wanting to make Louis come but keep him aroused enough that it hurt, just a little. His eyelids flutter as the taste of Louis’s pre-come burst across his tastebuds, bitter and yet delicious.

 

“Harry!” Louis gasped his entire body on fire. He felt like pulling out his hair, insane with need. “Inside me, please!” He begged. And how could Harry deny such a pretty request?

 

He released Louis’s cock with a wet pop and pushed his legs back, ripping the joggers away and throwing them to the floor to join his towel. He reached into the bedside table and brought out a tube of lube, squirting it on his fingers. With his fingers slicked up, Harry inserted a finger into Louis’s most intimate place, seeking out Louis’s prostate right away. When Louis cried out, he knew he found it and he inserted another finger. Louis looked stunning, trapped in the pain of the pleasure and Harry drank in the sight of him as he scissored his fingers apart, preparing him carefully. Lovingly.

 

Inserting his third and fourth fingers, Harry deems Louis as prepped enough but just in case mutters, “Are you ready?”

 

“Gods, yes…” Louis rasped, looking out of his mind. He dropped his legs and curled them around Harry’s waist, bringing him close. Smiling softly, Harry pressed more kisses to his neck, being careful of his injured side with his hands.

 

Finally, Harry lubed up his cock and, using his hand, aimed at Louis’s hole. He leaned over him, resting their foreheads together and began to push inside. At his size, it was a long process, each inch of tight heat torturous. By the time he’s fully engulfed, they’re both out of breath, gripping onto each other.

 

“Move, please,” Louis whined, reaching up to grip Harry’s curls.

 

Harry complied. He withdrew until just the head of his cock was inside Louis before he thrust back in, syrupy slow. It’s unhurried, their eye contact never breaking. Sharing sweet kisses, Harry maintained a slow speed with no intention of speeding up.

 

“So good…” Louis slurs, kissing Harry as the man fills him up again. Harry grins crookedly, inclined to agree. The pleasure building was so slow that it almost snuck up on him. He hit Louis’s prostate with a thrust, causing Louis to finally break their connection by tipping his head back, biting his bottom lip. Harry buried his nose in Louis’s neck, greedily inhaling the other boy’s scent. Sweat is dripping over his body by the time Harry feels his orgasm approach. As the heat pools in his belly, its harder to keep his rhythm and Louis notices, his moaning getting louder and higher.

 

With his orgasm impending, Harry bit down on Louis’s neck and with one last wild jerk of his hips, he’s letting loose inside his saviour. Louis held onto him, muttering nonsensically and inconsolably to Harry, his fingers tickling the back of the older man’s sweaty neck.

 

When it ends, Harry stays where he is, enjoying the feeling for a few moments longer before he pries himself up. Louis’s cock was laying limp, his cum staining the skin between them and Harry makes a pleased noise at the sight. “Stray?” Harry whispered into the musky air but Louis merely whined. “Are you…?”

 

“Good,” Louis slurred. Harry smiled in relief and pulled himself out. Louis groaned and immediately snuggled up into Harry’s chest, where he fell asleep.

 

When Louis awoke the next morning before the sun was fully up and the world began its daily movement, he had realized what he had done. Cursing, his side burning, he jumped out of Harry’s bed and rushed into the bathroom where he quickly showered. He then grabbed a pair of skinny jeans that looked like they had never been worn from Harry’s dresser, along with an old band shirt. Stuffing his costume into a grocery bag, he leapt from Harry’s bedroom window and began his trek back to his apartment.

 

When he got home, Selina was gone, a note sitting on the table saying she was at a friend’s place and that he shouldn’t wait up for her. Louis sighed in relief and dropped into the dining room chair, wincing when his stitches protested the action.

 

What had he done?

 

It was like the number one rule of vigilante-ism. Don’t have sex with random people while you’re in costume. Well, technically, he hadn’t been in costume during the sex part of the night. But he had been before, and Harry had seen his face! but Louis couldn’t stop thinking about him, the way he smelt, the way he felt. Louis groaned. He was a fucking loser. How could he have let such a thing happen!? Batman would never let something like this happen. Selina wouldn’t either.

 

Louis sighed. It was fine. Absolutely fine. He would just never see Harry ever again. He could do that. His gut immediately protested the thought and he huffed, laying his head in his palms. Why was that such a hard thing to do? It wasn’t like he even knew the guy. It had been a one-time thing. Right?

 

 

 

When Stray comes, it smells like thunder. It feels like lightning in his veins that makes his blood pump fast, pump thick under his sweat-slick skin. And then the scent turns sweet. Sweet like cotton candy being turned at an amusement park.

 

And yeah Harry was getting rather addicted to it. It was the fourth night they had been together and being with Stray makes Harry want to jump to a mountain peak and scream at the top of his lungs. The good kind of scream, the one that frees your soul.

 

And, by god, when Stray comes it’s like a goddamn miracle and it turns Harry’s world on its axis. The process leading up to the tipping point is pretty amazing too, He wouldn’t ever complain about that.

 

But, really, it’s the end result he’s so sold on.

 

“God-,” Stray purred, “Harry-,” He stumbled over the name, his lips plush and fucked out, red and swollen from kissing. Harry is half torn between going back and ravishing his mouth again and staying where he was. He had a good view from between Stray’s legs, watching the tanned expanse of skin, now red and glistening with sweat, move with every breath. Harry spent one careful time with each nipple before moving down to the wound on his side, pressing gentle kisses around it before moving down to his navel. 

 

Harry hums around the dick in his mouth, swirls his tongue a little around the head and licks into the slit. It makes Stray buck his hips, a low groan choked off and turned into a breathless sigh. Stray’s fingers are wound so tight in Harry’s hair that he’s surprised he has any left.

 

Stray lets it take over him, lets his eyes roll back in his head, jaw falling slack. He pants out little breaths of Harry’s name intermittently with curse words and unintelligible enthusiastic consent. Harry presses his fingertips further into the dip in Stray’s hips, holds him there while he bobs his head, hollowing out his cheeks.

 

The air crackled around them, coming to life and Harry worked harder. Stray curled over him when he came, forcing Harry’s mouth so far down he chokes, but he doesn’t fight it.

 

Instead, he lets the come drip out the sides of his mouth, kept sucking until Stray shoved his head away with little gasps from overstimulation. Harry sat back and licked his lips clean, watching Stray breathing, chests both heaving.

 

The smell of the tang of his come still hung heavy and heady in the air, but the little breaths falling from Stray’s mouth smelled like cotton candy; airy and sweet. Harry surged up, locked their mouths together in a twist of tongue and clash of teeth. He fisted his hand in Stray’s short, caramel hair and presses his body up close, crowding him against the bed.

 

And they stayed there, in each other’s arms for the rest of the night.

 

The next morning, after Stray had left, Harry had studied the picture of him with his mother and sister for a long moment. What would they say if the could see him now? Masquerading as an incompetent police detective, having nightly rendezvous with a masked vigilante. He sighed.

 

He had left New York to get away from all of that. To get away from who he was or, rather, who he had been. He didn’t like who he had become while he had been in New York, Then again, he still wasn’t who he was supposed to be either. It was like he was still wearing a mask. A mask that covered more than what even Stray wore.

 

Harry sighed again, resigned to never being who needed, who he wanted, to be.

 

 

 

The murder of Julia Randall seemed to be going nowhere fast, much to Louis’s chagrin. Selina still had him boycotting jobs, even to the disappointment of the Penguin, who liked the pretty, shiny things that Louis stole for him. Personally, Louis liked the cash much better.

 

He was still training at night, trying to improve himself with every jump, every flip and every snap of the bullwhip. After splitting up the money between the apartment and his tuition fees, there had still been some cash left from their last job. Selina had tucked it away, just in case they needed it for the future. Considering how slow the GCPD were moving on the Randall case, Louis wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t have another job for months.

 

Selina wasn’t home and Louis had been playing FIFA for hours. Deciding to get his ass off the bed, he turned off his PlayStation and grabbed his wallet and yanked on his shoes. Locking the apartment door behind him, he headed off to the Gotham Heights district.

 

Louis knew the streets of Gotham well; every neighbourhood was his. Gotham was his. He found the building that Julia Randall had been living it. The news hadn’t been shy in sharing any details of her grisly death. Louis got inside the building no problem, sliding his way past the crime scene tape and picking open the lock to get inside the abandoned apartment. It smelt like bleach and cleaning chemicals inside and Louis figured the crime scene guys had finished with their jobs. He walking through the living room, imagining how the young model lived. It was classy, lived in and filled to the brim with personal effects. Louis smiled when he spotted the array of pictures on a curio cabinet and walked over to it. While all the picture frames had a layer of dust on them, one didn’t. The front and centre one.

 

Narrowing his eyes, Louis did the same thing he did at Harry’s apartment. He picked up and inspected the photo before he turned over the frame and popped open the back. He read the brief note and memorized the name of the place and the street. He would be heading there next.

 

Louis got to D’Assine’s in record pace, moving along several rooftops to make his way faster. He dropped down in an alley before emerging out on 137th street. When he walked in there was a blonde woman sitting at a desk, typing away on a computer. All around her were mannequins, dressed to the nines in beautiful designer clothing.

 

Louis walked in, eyes stuck on a male mannequin wearing an Adidas tracksuit. The blonde woman looked up at him and he spotted a name tag reading Nicole. “Can I help you?” She asked, eyeing him up, shrewdly.

 

Louis flushed, “Ah yes. I was looking for…” He paused… “Ah, a job?”

 

_Where did that come from, Louis!?_ He cursed himself.

 

Nicole narrowed her eyes and inspected him, “You want to be a model?” She eyed his skinny jeans and red scoop-necked shirt he was wearing underneath a track sweater.

 

“Well, I’m in school, you see. And I need to make a bit of money so I’m just, you know, looking for stuff?” He bit his lip as she stood, walking around him. She finally stopped right in front of him after eyeing him up 360 degrees.

 

“You’re cute. Beautiful cheekbones. But can you pull off our clothes?” She mused, tapping at her chin. “Can you work the camera?”

  
Louis grinned, “Oh, trust me, I can work anything.”

 

Two hours later, Louis emerged from D’Assine’s as the newest model for their catalogue.

 

 

 

The problem with his nightly rendezvous with Stray was that, despite their intimacy, Harry still didn’t know what the boy looked like. Stray always made sure that when he went without the cowl and goggles to stay in the darkness of the apartment. He refused to let Harry turn on any lights. So, despite them having spent four nights together, Harry only knew the boy (He seemed younger than Harry which is why he referred to him as a boy) as Stray. He knew nothing else about his nightly companion other than the alias he went by.

 

It bothered Harry, to a degree he didn’t want to admit. But he also knew better. He knew what it was like. Knew Stray had to keep it that way for the safety of his family, of his life as an average person in Gotham City. Harry thought there was nothing average about Stray. He was a shining beacon in the dark city, drawing Harry to him like a ship to a lighthouse.

 

The point was though, that Harry wouldn’t be able to pull Stray out of the crowd without him dressed in his leather getup. And that was a problem. For Harry, at least.

 

Because, when Harry walked into D’Assine and saw them running around working with a new model, an absolutely gorgeous boy with feathery hair and high cheekbones, Harry felt all the blood rush to his cheeks. And then he felt guilty. How could he even look at another when he had Stray, crawling into his bedroom every night and kissing him like Harry was his last source of oxygen?

 

Trying to get a hold of himself, Harry pretended not to notice the boy, who had finally noticed him with his big blue eye. If Harry had been looking, he would have noticed the instant recognition in the eyes, following him carefully.

 

One of the women walked over to Harry, sneering at his flat hair, glasses and sweater vest before saying, “We’re not hiring.”

 

Harry shook his head, “Ma’am, um, I’m actually an officer. Officer Styles.” He held out his badge to show her. She was visibly stunned at the confession. So was the boy behind her though, unbeknownst to Harry, for a totally different reason.

 

“How I can I help you, Officer?” The woman asked, crossing her arms. Harry noted her name tag, which read Nicole.

 

“Ms. Julia Randall, she worked here?” Suddenly everyone was standing at attention.

 

“No, I had to let her go some months before her unfortunate accident.”

 

“Did she… Have any close friends who worked here?”

 

“Actually, yes. Ms. Swanson.”

 

Haven Swanson with a red-haired woman, pale, with sultry green eyes. When she walked, her hips swayed. Harry knew most men would find this appealing and immediately noted the curve of her lips when she saw him.

 

“Ms. Swanson, you knew Julia Randall?”

  
Swanson purred, “Yes, officer. She helped me get my job here.” She hooked her fingers together in front of her and Harry noticed a large pearl sitting on her left-hand ring finger.

 

“Engaged, ma’am?”

 

“Yes, to my Henry.” She chuckled.

 

Harry nodded and fumbled with a notebook out of his pocket. Swanson watched with amusement as he flipped through the pages clumsily to where he had several notes. “Ma’am, how um, how did you meet Ms. Randall?”

 

Haven Swanson sighed and flipped her hair over her shoulder, “Through my fiancé, Henry Arnett. He has a fashion business and he and Julia have been friends for years.” Harry nodded, scribbling down jotted notes of what she said.

 

“Was Julia seeing anyone? A man, perhaps?”

 

Swanson raised an eyebrow, “Julia never mentioned anything to me. No man.”

 

Nodding, Harry wrote a question mark next to the men’s smoking jacket before he closed the notebook. Thanking the women, he walked out of the agency and moved to stand next to the side of the door, peering down at the notebook. He had written everything he had noted at the apartment but without the help of the other detectives, he was getting nowhere fast. He sighed, frustrated with himself.

 

And then the door to the agency opened again and the model they had been working with, the beautiful one, exited. The boy looked down to his right before turning to the left to spot Harry. He grinned widely and Harry could only notice how it made his eyes light up. Flushed, Harry put his notebook back in the pocket of his pea coat and cleared his throat anxiously.

 

The boy approached him, “Officer! I have some information you might find useful,” he said, fluttering his long eyelashes at him.

 

Harry raised an eyebrow, realized how sceptical he was looking and quickly rearranged his face. The boy giggled. “Um, do you?” Harry managed to stutter out. “Mr…?”

 

“It’s Louis. And yes, I do. I heard some of the girls talking. Apparently, Julia Randall was seeing a doctor named Keaton. He was prescribing her all sorts of pills. Apparently, she was using them to stay thin and in shape for modelling. Just thought you might want to know.”

 

Stunned, Harry blinked slowly, processing the information. Now that was very useful. He eyed Louis thoughtfully, who was still gazing at him with a slight smile to his lips. “I- Um, thank you, Louis.” Louis beamed. Flushing, Harry grabbed his notebook from his pocket, flipped it open to an empty page and scribbled down his number. He ripped out the page and handed it to Louis. “If you… If you um, think of anything else, let me know?”

 

“I’ll be your eyes and ears, officer,” Louis vowed, utterly sincere, making Harry gulp. Nodding, Harry shoved his hands in the pockets of his coat and hurried away. If he had looked back he would have noticed Louis watching him with soft, affectionate eyes.

 

 

 

Staring at his closet, Harry found himself in between a rock and a hard place. After visiting Dr. Keaton and discovering nothing, he had found himself stuck. Julia Randall’s murder was remaining unsolved. However, that wasn’t the only problem. The men who had attempted to mug Harry had come forward, spoken to Officer Bertrand and told him that a boy, dressed like a cat, assaulted them. Bertrand started the witch hunt immediately and now Stray, or Catboy they were calling him, was suspect number one in the robberies and the murder of Julia Randall.

 

That left Harry in a difficult position. He had been running away from the mantle, hiding from it. It was all kept in locked safely in his closet but he hadn’t been able to look at it since he had moved to Gotham, hiding it and storing the safe behind boxes in his closest.

 

But, maybe it was time?

 

Did the world need him? Did Gotham need him? Gotham had the Batman. Harry’s stomach twisted. What about Stray? What did he have? Gotham, his territory, Harry supposed. His life as a regular Gothamite, Harry added. But maybe, Stray needed Harry.

 

Maybe Stray needed the Equinox.

 

(Or maybe Harry needed him.)

 

Harry stood from his bed, moved the boxes from the closet and opened the safe, pulling out the contents within.


End file.
